


the sun, the moon, and all of the stars

by codesandhearts



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, bellamy blake is a bossy bottom pass it on, nathan miller protection squad: protect miller at all costs!, who am i anymore, why is my life being taken over by the charismatic brown men of the 100
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-05
Updated: 2014-11-05
Packaged: 2018-02-24 04:47:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2568707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/codesandhearts/pseuds/codesandhearts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> Miller decides he’d probably die for these two losers. </i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>[spoilers up to 2x02]</p>
            </blockquote>





	the sun, the moon, and all of the stars

**Author's Note:**

> my first the 100 fic without wells jaha!! 
> 
> also the ritual grounders mentioned in the end of this fic is adapted from a real rite of passage used among people of my race and religion in my country called 'cukur jambul'. leave comments if you love nathan miller!
> 
> **EDIT** : [now with smutty sequel-ish](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2569589)

There was a story he loved once, as a child. Every night, he asked for the same one before he fell asleep and his parents never refused. How could they? He was their only child, they were allowed to spoil him, even if spoiling him just meant repeated words and good intentions.

It was a love story, the kind that existed on Earth by the thousands, but, to Nathan, it was the only one he knew. A princess, trapped in a secret compartment of one of the Ark stations, with beautiful blonde hair and sparkling eyes that longed every day for something more, for freedom. Every day, she would dig a hole in the ground and slowly, bit by bit, she got through and managed to find her way to an underground network of unused engines.

There, she found a boy who despised her at first, a boy with black hair and a steely disposition. Nathan liked to imagine them, stuck in those engines, one full of light, the other covered in darkness –polar opposites but completely similar at the same time. She convinced him to take her home and he did, slowly falling in love with her along the way and her feeling the same.

They got separated, though (Nathan always gasped at this part, much to his mother’s amusement) and, although the princess was restored to her rightful place with her people, she yearned for the boy. Not much later, she heard whispers of a neighbouring station whose leader had fallen to a charming revolution leader. She put on a zero-g suit to travel to the station and, there, she found the boy she’d fallen in love with, only now his people called him king.

“And they lived happily ever after,” his mother always finished.

Sooner rather than later, Nathan grew up –stopped asking for stories altogether but he remembers the words to that story every day, like it’s something that should matter. He never did get over how little Nathan Miller never figured out who he liked better, the princess or the rebel king.

When Nathan was dropped on Earth, he mainly kept to himself until Bellamy asked him to join his crew. He agreed, of course. He was a better soldier than anything else. He’d learned from his father.

It’s one day, one thought, that changes everything. It’s after that Wells kid died, after Bellamy and Clarke agreed to work together. The two of them are bickering around camp, which isn’t an unusual sight but Nathan –no, Miller now, everyone calls him Miller- stops in his tracks. The sunlight is reaching Clarke so differently than it usually does and Bellamy is stooped low beside her. Blonde hair against cold eyes. The princess and the rebel king.

Miller decides he’d probably die for these two losers.

 

He still can’t decide who he likes better, as if he actually has a choice in the matter.

He entertains the notions though, sometimes when the lights are low and everyone else but him is asleep. He thinks about Bellamy and Clarke, together, apart, until his dreams become riddled with soft images of golden hair, freckled skin stretched across taut muscles, mismatched words that become speeches in his head, lips touching lips that aren’t his own. He never says anything, that’s not his job. his job is to stand by Bellamy and be a good right hand, to protect Clarke even it means making an impossible choice (“I’m closing that door,” he yelled, even if, _even if_ ).

That’s still his job, even in Mount Weather, where Clarke can’t keep her mouth shut and doesn’t understand the necessity of subtlety. She’s making it more difficult than it needs to be. He believes her, he does, but this is Clarke Griffin, who works best in thunderstorms and warring states. She doesn’t know how to handle quiet.

 

She breaks and discusses it with him. She sits cross-legged on his bed, eyes intent and hands tracing the bedspread to mark the exits in her head.

“We have to get out of here,” she says and he knows that. He knows they can’t stay here. They’ve been treated too much like animals to be forced docile.

“We need to think about this, though,” he says. “Be smart about it.”

“But Jasper…”

“Fuck what Jasper thinks. He was wrong to talk to you like that, after everything you’ve done for us,” he says.

For the most part, he understands where Jasper is coming from. This comfort, maybe it’s what they need, but not forever. This place is like the Ark. There’s no way they can survive here and all the last few months have thought them is survival.

They spend a lot of time hashing things out, until there are whispers around the kids that imply something sinister and dirty (but, if he’s being honest, something he wants). It gets to the point where President Wallace quirks his eyebrow when he sees them together, too. Clarke catches on quickly (he’s slowly been teaching her how to seem harmless) and, over lunch one day, she plays it up. She tells him when they’re taking food, loud so Wallace can hear them from the opposite of the table, that he looks handsome and she misses his beanie. He laughs at that, even if it’s a ruse, because he misses it, too.

Clarke is painting President Wallace a picture, of a pretty girl who has normal teenaged desires. A child at heart, who poses no threat and would much rather spend days chasing kisses rather than this building’s secrets. She flips her hair, makes discreet touches at Miller, and smiles just the right amount. She’s learning well. Even Miller’s buying it.

“Do you miss them?” Miller asks one night. “I mean, it’s likely they’re dead but-”

“They’re not dead,” she says. “They’re alive, I know it.”

“Okay.” Miller doesn’t dare fight her when she’s like this.

She falls silent for a while and Miller can’t see her, she’s in the bed atop of his but he can hear her shallow breathing and the rustling of her sheets. “I miss them. Of course I do. If they were here…”

“If Bellamy was here, he’d have us break out of here the second he woke up.”

Clarke does something she hasn’t done for a while. She, honest to god, laughs. And not one of those fake, showy laughs but one that’s shaky and ashamed but so _Clarke_.

 

They escape with Anya and the other Grounders through a series of tunnels underneath the building two days later.

“Clarke,” Jasper says, while they’re walking. Both Clarke and Miller turn. Jasper looks scared, holding Monty’s hand, but that’s understandable.

Miller walks towards him and he can see Jasper hold onto Monty a bit tighter. “Jordan, I swear, if you say one more thing against Clarke, I’m punching you in the face and Monty will have to carry you, which I don’t want to do because I actually like Monty.”

“Miller!” Clarke reprimands him.

“I’m just wondering if we can take a break. We’ve been walking for hours.”

Miller turns back to Clarke, who nods, and the kids behind them start sitting down against the walls of the tunnels. Clarke instructs the rest of the Grounders to take a rest in Grounder speak and it’s only about half an hour later that she sits down, after treating various maladies and illness around their people, so, obviously, it’s an hour or more until Miller finally rests. He tells himself it’s fine to sleep now, now Clarke’s sound asleep. He sleeps next to her, just in case.

They lost two kids along the way so it doesn’t surprise him when Clarke wakes him up with the sound of her choked sobs in her sleep. She’s still asleep so he just does the best thing he can think of. He strokes her softly until her breathing evens out.

 

They find the Ark and Bellamy and the others in that order.

Miller doesn’t do what’s worse –being treated like a child again or watching his leaders (these two people he’d _die_ for) stripped of everything they built.

This can’t last, Miller knows this. The Ark was never made to be forever, even on Earth. These customs and rules, they’re going to burn up sooner or later. People have a choice of whether or not they want to be part of the flames. Even the delinquents have started incorporating Grounder speech in their language.

The one good thing about reuniting with the Ark though is seeing the parents. Monty practically jumps into the arms of his mother, hastily speaking Korean to her as he holds her hand around Camp Jaha; Clarke even hugs her mother, and his dad is the only one allowed to call him Nathan. Because his mom is probably (hopefully) with one of the other stations that landed, his dad has taken to becoming his mother’s stand-in.

(“Nathan, have you eaten today?” his dad asks when he sees Miller around camp.

“Nathan, you should get enough sleep.” Even if his dad sometimes shares his tent –so embarrassing- and has probably clocked in how many hours he’s slept.

“Hey, Nathan, are there any kids you’re interested in?” he asks because he’s never used single-gender pronouns when referring to any of Miller’s ‘special friends’. He thinks it makes him a ‘cool dad’.)

It’s so invasive and embarrassing and Miller is so _grateful_ for it.

Around Camp Jaha, it only takes two days after Bellamy’s return for whispers of revolt to step in. He’s honestly surprised it took this long. Bellamy comes home to them steeped in anger and blood on his face. In some ways, it’s the only Bellamy Miller knows how to love.

Miller convenes with Clarke, Raven and Bellamy at night. They don’t need an excuse to lie to the other kids –they’re already preparing for mutiny against the Ark- but the adults look at them and raise their eyebrows. So Clarke pulls the same shit she did in Mount Weather, holds Miller’s hand and smiles soft. Raven and Bellamy don’t have that air of sweet love between them but they’re good with always looking like they just had sex.

One night, the girls have worked hard the whole day and decided to take in an early night, leaving Bellamy and Miller alone in Bellamy’s tent.

They take a break and pass around a flask of whiskey between them. “So,” Bellamy drawls out. “You and Clarke?”

“Nah, it’s just a survival thing. Nothing happened.”

“Shame.” Is it?

“You and Raven, though?”

“Just the once. Haven’t done anything in a while. Last time was with Finn when we went looking for you guys. It was a mistake, we were both angry, and you know Finn’s not my favourite person.”

They’ve always had this candour between them. They’re men; they do man things and discuss those man things with each other. Miller’s just never expected that Bellamy would be…like him. In a way. Liking someone from the same gender isn’t looked down upon, sometimes the Ark endorsed it because it meant less children and rationing. And, in retrospect, it’s not surprising Bellamy would be one of them.

“When was your last time?” Bellamy asks.

Miller shrugs. “A while. Probably not since the first few weeks we were on Earth.”

“That’s a long while.”

“It’s fine.”

Silence, and then – “You wanna?”

“What?” Miller asks.

Bellamy laughs. “I mean, with me. it’s cool if you don’t want to but, let’s be honest, we both need to let off some steam.”

“I…”

“It doesn’t have to mean anything, Miller. Just sex. Sex is easy. Like, look, oh you have a dick and I have hands and a mouth. Funny how that works.”

Now it’s Miller’s turn to laugh. “You know what, fine. Yeah, let’s do it.”

Bellamy looks more excited than Miller thought he’d be, like he’s the one who’s been dreaming about this. He surges forward and catches Miller’s lips in his own, hand at his shoulder. For all the time Miller’s been thinking about this, it’s not that extraordinary. Bellamy tastes the way Miller expected he would –like blood and grime and anger with a hint of sweetness- and there’s no loud thrumming that goes on in his head when Bellamy moves down to kiss his neck.

What surprises him is the way Bellamy moves. It’s all slow and tentative, making sure Miller is the one getting most out of it with inquisitive eyes and questioning hands. He expected Bellamy to be loud and abrasive, pushy and demanding, but he kisses slow and rocks steady against Miller’s hips.

“What do you want me to do?” Miller asks, already breathless.

“Oh, c’mon, Miller, I’m not that mean. Just lay back and have fun,” Bellamy says with a smirk. He kisses him once more before taking off his shirt and Miller’s. He trails down Miller’s body and unbuttons his pants. Miller sees Bellamy licking his lips.

“You don’t have to-”

Bellamy laughs. “Literally nothing gets me hotter. Now shut up.”

It’s the last of Miller’s complaints.

Bellamy licks and sucks, his fingernails digging into Miller's skin as if saying more, more, more. Miller tries to give him everything, pushes up into Bellamy's mouth until Bellamy groans, and when he comes, Bellamy still sucking him, it lasts forever. Bellamy laughs when Miller reaches to unbutton Bellamy's pants to return the favour.

"No need," Bellamy says and Miller sees the dark, wet spot on the front of his pants. Miller's entire world whites out.

 

The revolt happens two days later. It’s not dramatic, no one dies, but Bellamy and Clarke stand in between the Ark survivors and the kids they sent down here to die and issue an ultimatum.

“Us or them,” Bellamy says.

“You have a choice either way,” Clarke says. “But you must know already that the way you’re living is not sustainable. You don’t know how to hunt or to face Grounder threats. You don’t know how to live here, we do. Either way, we’re leaving. Anyone who wants to join us can do the same.”

Miller stands beside them, a stolen gun in his hands, and watches as, understandably, the parents join in. Monty’s mom, Clarke’s mom, his own dad. Soon enough, the people left on the Ark side is half of what they used to be, Kane in the middle of them.

“If anyone changes their mind,” Bellamy says.

“You know how to find us,” Clarke says.

 

It takes a while for everyone to get into the some kind of routine but it works.

It starts beginning to feel like a kind of life he could live and not just tolerate. He has his job as a soldier, as Clarke and Bellamy’s advisor, as a part of the team.

Miller assumed that Bellamy would just pretend that the night that happened between them didn’t happen but it’s quite the opposite. Bellamy quirks an eyebrow knowingly at Miller and Miller feels heat surge through him; Bellamy kisses him, hot and heavy, in between days that nothing pressing happens, hands all over him; Bellamy requests hunts where it’s just him and Miller and he can press Miller against a tree and say things like, “I want you _so bad_.”

It almost feels like a _thing_ , something he should tell his dad about, until he sees Bellamy and Clarke kiss openly in camp.

“Are they together now?” Miller asks Raven, because no one would know more.

“Yeah, they’ve been going steady for a while. Thought everyone knew.” Raven shrugs.

Miller’s heart drops, despite himself. He knows this. He’s always known this. There’s no room for the knight in the love story.

“Not me.”

“Well, you are pretty oblivious,” Raven says with a smile. “Even if you spend pretty much every waking hour with them.”

“Yeah,” he says because he does but he hasn’t noticed anything. Bellamy still has his dirty smiles and Clarke still holds his hand reassuringly. Sometimes Bellamy even trails his fingers along Miller’s sides with Clarke watching and Clarke puts her head on Miller’s shoulder when she’s tired, even if Bellamy is right there. It’s almost as if Miller is part of them, without being part of them. Oh god, is he _part_ of them?

He marches into Bellamy and Clarke’s tent that evening (Clarke moved in not too long after they settled in but Miller just figured it was for strategic purposes, oh god, he’s an idiot) and finds them in various states of undress. They don’t even try to cover up and Miller’s left staring like a moron at Bellamy’s nipples and the hickeys across Clarke’s skin.

“Miller,” Bellamy says.

“Nathan,” Clarke says.

“How come you get to call him Nathan?” Bellamy pouts.

“Because I’m a nice person.”

“Uh,” Miller says because they’re bickering, over _him_.

“Right,” Bellamy says. “What did you want to say?”

“Are you guys propositioning me? Like, for a relationship?”

Clarke smiles and says, “Not really. I mean, I like you and I know Bellamy likes you because he keeps going on about how dreamy you are and how your cock is a gift to mankind but we never…we never wanted you to choose between us.”

“Because me and Clarke like each other, too,” Bellamy says, holding Clarke’s hand. “And maybe what you and I have is just sex to you or you don’t actually like Clarke but that’s not the case for us. So, I guess, _now_ we’re propositioning you. Like, for a relationship.”

“You-” Miller says because this is surreal. “I’ve liked you idiots since we _landed here_ –I’d die for you- and you think – _you think_?”

“Was that a yes?” Clarke asks.

Miller kneels, so he’s at eye-level with them. He takes off his beanie (a gift from Clarke, wow he really _has_ missed all the signs) and jacket. “Yes.”

Bellamy kisses him first and it’s already, oh god, familiar. Clarke next and she tastes so sweet he wants to drown in it. They take off his shirt and Clarke kisses down his chest while his hands grip onto Bellamy’s bicep.

“Miller, Miller, _Miller_ ,” Bellamy is saying, breathless and wrecked and they haven’t even _started_.

“Okay, question,” Clarke says, hands still on him. “What do we call you when we’re alone? Still Miller? Nathan?”

Ew, his dad calls him Nathan.

“Nate,” he answers.

“Nate,” Bellamy says. “I could get used to that.”

“Our Nate,” Clarke says. Miller shivers.

They kiss him and he goes weak. They spend the night marking him, little bites and bruises everywhere. Along his neck, down his chest, his inner thigh, his ass. Bellamy sucks him off –his favourite- as he eats Clarke out, revelling in her breathy moans and soft encouragements. He comes, in Bellamy’s mouth and holding onto Clarke. He can feel them everywhere and he never wants it to end.

 

Clarke introduces them as her boys or her boyfriends.

Bellamy introduces them as his partners.

Miller, when confronted by his dad, says, “Dad, these are my two idiots. We’re together in a romantic way.”

Clarke laughs, Bellamy worries about making a good impression, Miller loves them a lot.

 

When their camp welcomes their first child born on the ground–a little brown girl named Leila- everyone coos. The girl is adorable and loves everyone and, by being born, has automatically gained a village full of new parents to look after her.

Bellamy is extremely taken by her, carries her around the village and shows her the sights. Clarke and Miller just look, his arm around her. She looks so grown up now, almost a full year being leader, but, when the lights are down, she’s still his and Bellamy’s princess.

“Would you wanna?” Miller asks, looking at how Bellamy bounces Leila on his lap.

“What? Have kids?”

“Well, not now, obviously. But some day.”

Clarke shrugs. “I dunno. Maybe someday,” she says. “But I don’t want to see you and Bellamy fighting over who goes first.”

“Oh, I’m not gonna fight. Bel goes first. Just look at him, he’s a natural,” Miller says.

That night, Leila’s mother is on patrol duty and Miller volunteers to look after her. The baby girl is beautiful, big brown eyes that look up to him with wonder, little hands that grab onto his thumb. Miller strokes her soft black hair. Tomorrow, she'll undergo a sacred Grounder rite of passage where she is passed around the elders of their village and they’ll each cut off a piece of her hair to be buried.

“Do you wanna hear a story, little lady?” he asks.

She claps her hands, as if she understands.

He holds her in his hands and tells her a love story, about a princess, a rebel king and a knight and how they thought each other hung the stars and moon. Miller changes a bit of the surroundings –space stations turn to villages, engines become tunnels. They are children of the Earth now.

He makes sure to end the story with all three of them together.

Leila smiles. She likes the ending. Miller does, too.

 


End file.
